In the swing

Until a few weeks ago most people knew little about Guinea. Now it is one of the six countries that hold the cards in the diplomatic poker game with America. Anna Blundy, in the UN building in New York, tries to find out if the so-called 'swinging six' will back a war on Iraq

They are known as the swinging six and it has nothing to do with wife-swapping. These are the member states holding America to ransom over war on Iraq. You can spot a swinger by the swagger in his gait and the crowd of hysterical journalists surrounding him. The Pakistanis, Chileans, Mexicans, Cameroonians, Angolans and Guineans are visibly basking in the attention, and the gossip is intense. "Am I enjoying being at the UN at this time? Of course. It's fantastic," the Pakistani ambassador, Munir Akram grins.

Fun it may be, but the swingers face monumental problems. For all six nations - by yesterday afternoon re-christened the U6 (that's 'U' for undecided) - support for America's war could mean political suicide at home (Pakistan and Guinea have large Muslim populations, Mexico and Chile cannot be seen to be slaves to the US, and Angola, Cameroon and Guinea are supposed to be part of the African "NO" alliance). Not only that, but Guinea's president Lansana Konte, is dying back home, and Mexico's president, Vicente Fox, went into hospital yesterday and handed over to a deputy.

Downstairs in the delegates lounge, the German ambassador, Gunter Pleuger, (strongly anti-war) is smilingly convinced that America will never get the nine votes it needs to make any military action it takes look so much as mildly justified. "I don't see the six as swingers," he smirks. "They are all anti."

As he moves across to the enormous bank of television cameras, he stops for a brief chat with a journalist who suggests that their opposition might leave Germany and France isolated in Europe. The notoriously placid Pleuger explodes. "Isolated! Isolated! Who can try and isolate France and Germany in Europe! We'll show them who's isolated!"

The trouble is, of course, America is using all the diplomatic means at its disposal to put pressure on and isolate the swingers (or as someone "upstairs" called them, "the bidders" - some cynics think they are out for as much money as they can get in return for support). Up on the secretary general's 38th floor it is understood that Colin Powell has only bothered with the UN to help Tony Blair. And depending on who you believe, Powell's effort is not going particularly well. "I can't see Pakistan voting for war," muttered one nervous-looking official. "They'll get the votes," said another blithely. "Everyone's in the bag."

One thing is for certain, and that is that nobody is very impressed by the Americans' strong-arm tactics. "Say $100 million to these Africans and they see the stars," says a senior official. Russian ambassador, Sergei Lavrov, says the Americans suffer chronically from "Tsar of the hill syndrome". "They tell you this has been decided in Washington and here are the reasons why you must agree."

Charm, it is widely agreed, is not Washington's forte. The Pakistani ambassador smiles. "Do they actually threaten us? They don't have to. Pressure? We get a lot of, shall we say, delicate phone calls."

The general perception is that the three African swingers have been bought by American promises of aid, though accusations are flying about the possibility of aid being used as a political weapon. "Contrary to Clare Short's instructions, aid has been withdrawn from Cameroon unless they comply," a Frenchman says. "Hardly likely," says an Englishman. "Using aid in that way sounds more like something the French would do."

America, though, likes to leave the and bickering to the non-hyper powers. Bush tends to go for veiled, or completely open threats. He has publicly promised to "discipline" Mexico for lack of compliance, a statement that brings Mexico's dashing UN ambassador, Adolfo Aguilar Zinser, to a state of ironic twitching. The feeling in the Mexican mission is that the US couldn't do much to hurt them that it isn't doing already.

Everybody is disappointed by Bush's unfulfilled promises to them and America is hardly likely to shoot itself in the foot by going back on trade agreements already in place. There are, apparently, "wimpy fear-ridden intellectuals" who believe Mexico should just get in line behind Big Brother, but the government refuses to play its cards too early. They don't want to "pay the cost of any decision in advance" but they do admit that the pressure from America is "intense".

That's for sure. A highly reliable Pakistani source tells me that Bush put in a call to Pakistan's General Musharaf last week, ostensibly to congratulate him on capturing the al-Qaida number three. He makes clear, though, that the "line of control" in Kashmir is worrying him. Word at the UN is that Musharaf's position is near-impossible. He faces total opposition to war against another Islamic country at home, but he relies for his own personal and political survival on American support. "America is very helpful to Pakistan," says Ambassador Akram. "It could also be very unhelpful."

And then there's Guinea, the small African nation that has suddenly found itself at the centre of the universe. Not only is president Konte taking calls from Bush and Chirac on his death bed, but Guinea also finds itself president of the Security Council. The assumption is that Guinea is "more than happy to vote for America and to stiff France" for whom it has "a visceral dislike" since their big falling-out in 1958. The ambassador, Mamady Traore, is not as open as that on the issue. Swishing about the place in yellow taffeta gowns and his white hat, he smells strongly of expensive aftershave. "We know exactly what we're doing," he grins.

"They have no idea what they're doing," says a senior UN official. People recall Boutros Boutros Ghali's famous joke. When asked how many people work at the United Nations he replied, "About half".

"It actually makes me laugh," says Edward Mortimer, aide to secretary general, Kofi Annan. "The non-permanent members usually complain that the P5 [the rich countries with the right to veto] take all the decisions between themselves and ignore everyone else. Now they're complaining that the P5 are incapable of sorting things out among themselves and are expecting us, of all people, to take the decisions."

"We are not undecided," says Traore, looking undecided. "As president of the Security Council we should not choose any camp. We are trying to create consensus. If I fail, my government will give me instructions on how to vote."

Guinea, though, is in an appalling quandary. The African alliance has already come out as anti-war, but Guinea does not want to be seen backing France, nor does it want to appear to have been bought by America.

"There has been abysmal diplomacy on both sides," a 38th floorer says. "America is making everyone dig their heels in with its strong-arming and France was stupid to get so antagonistic so early. It's not about Iraq any more, if it ever was. This is a diplomatic game of chicken."